


Cr1mson's Flash Drabbles

by Cr1mson5theStranger



Series: Cr1mson's Drabbles [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Gen, basically i'm just preparing you guys to get my heartbreaking wrath, crossposted to tumblr, i say i want no one in this show to suffer but that's a lie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-12-15
Packaged: 2018-04-27 14:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5051575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cr1mson5theStranger/pseuds/Cr1mson5theStranger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles in various genres that I've written for "The Flash", most of which are originally from Tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Didn't

Iris had watched Barry brought to the hospital, had seen the doctors struggling to revive him after his heart stopped the first time. It was December 18, or–perhaps December 19, early in the morning, after midnight. There were six days left until Christmas, and a carefully-wrapped DVD set was waiting under the West family Christmas tree. Iris brought it with her on Christmas Eve and kept vigil, waiting for a Hallmark Channel-worthy miracle to happen.

It didn’t.

New Year’s Eve was just as big a bash as ever, even with a smoking crater in Central City and seventeen too-fresh graves. Holidays were sometimes hard to stomach, for everyone, but Joe remembered how much Barry cheered when the ball dropped on TV, when the fireworks illuminated the night sky. Barry celebrated new years like they were new people, and for him, they were. As the clock turned from December 31 to January 1, Joe watched Barry’s face. He searched for a sign, a movement, a twitch of the muscles or flicker of the eyelids, hoping something–anything–would happen.

It didn’t.

By the time Barry’s birthday came in the summer, there were still Christmas presents on old Star Wars bedding, in the old room of a quiet house. STAR Labs was near deserted, but still somehow more hopeful than a crowded and bustling hospital. There was no talk there of letting nature take its course, no talk of letting Barry go if it was his time. Iris and Joe sat in silence, hand in hand, tears rolling down Iris’ cheeks and the anticipation thick and heavy in the air. Perhaps it was foolish. Perhaps it was ignorant and childish, to keep watch there and hover at his bedside and take every reassurance that he was doing well a bit too much to heart. Neither of them particularly cared much. It was all they had left, in the absence of green eyes and bright eyes, without ringing laughs and cheerful songs. It was all they had left, waiting for him to wake up.

He didn’t.


	2. Checking In

Ollie called every Thursday at 6:45 PM, on the dot, to say he was just checking in.

He had been doing it ever since Bivolo showed up. Barry knew exactly why he did it, too. He wished that he could say his memories of that awful day after Bivolo got inside his head were as blurry and indistinct as the memories of a time when all he had to worry about was making his bus and not being fired. He wished that he could say that all he remembered was seeing red, then blue and white and yellow and whatever other colors they’d flashed in front of him to bring him back to himself. He wished that he could say that, but he couldn’t, because it wasn’t true. The seething rage made everything a little fuzzy, but he remembered the things he’d done. He remembered attacking Eddie, mouthing off to Joe and Singh, snapping at his friends.

And he especially remembered the cutting remarks he’d made to Ollie in the field.

Barry understood why Ollie called. Really, he did. Somehow, the burning need to hurt Ollie like Barry had been hurt only seemed to reveal every angry insecurity Barry had ever racked up since meeting the other man. And he couldn’t imagine that Ollie hadn’t somehow started thinking of it as his fault for not stopping to consider how he might be making Barry feel, just by virtue of existing. If the situation were reversed, Barry would do the same thing for Ollie.

But that didn’t erase the fact that every call was another blow to some part of Barry that he could neither identify nor erase. It was the same part of him that whispered that Ollie would never call to check in if Barry had never said all those things, that nobody would really give a damn if Barry had never made that one critical error. That nobody even gave a damn after, that Ollie was only taking pity on him for being such a simpleton, that he was a joke to the others. It seemed as though Barry was caught back in the hell of his sixteen-year-old self, hanging in the balance between desperately needing everyone to care and desperately needing no one to.

It was Thursday, at any rate, and his phone rang at 6:40 PM. He snorted out a small laugh. Ollie must’ve been bored. “ _Hey, Barry, just checking in. How are you?”_

Barry smiled as though Ollie could see it through the phone, hoping it didn’t look or sound as strained as it felt. “Lost my sweatshirt, but I’m fine.”


	3. Sidetracked

“ _Heading back in, see you guys in a minute.”_

A minute came and went and still there was no sign of Barry. Caitlin tapped her fingers on the desk impatiently. “Where  _is_  he?” she demanded, as though one of them ought to know.

“Not here,” Cisco offered helpfully.

Caitlin glared.

“Yeah, okay, calling him.” Cisco tapped on his keyboard. “Barry,” he called.

There was a slight pause. “ _Yeah?”_  Barry replied.

Cisco narrowed his eyes at his monitor. “Why are you still five miles away?”

“ _I, uh…I got sidetracked.”_

Caitlin rolled her chair closer to get a look at Cisco’s monitor. “Iris isn’t there, is she?” she asked.

“ _No…”_

 _“_ Then what the hell are you doing?”

“ _There were ducks. They needed saving.”_

Caitlin breathed a forceful sigh through her nose. “Barry, you can’t keep the ducks.”

An instant later, Barry was standing in front of them, wiry arms full of eight tiny, peeping ducklings and their content mother. “Too late. I named them and everything. The mom is Lily, and this one’s Harry, and this one’s Ron, and this one’s Hermione, and these are Fred and George–or George and Fred, maybe, I can’t remember–”


	4. Prompt Fill: Awkward

No matter how much Barry insisted that his apartment was nowhere near big enough to fit the two of them and all their rambunctious ways, Cisco still insisted upon inviting himself over. And Barry would be lying if he said that it bothered him; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a friend who enjoyed being around him this much, other than Iris.

Currently, Cisco was perched rather precariously on the arm of Barry’s couch, fiddling with the remote for the TV. “We need a handshake,” he declared.

Barry, cross-legged on the floor, snorted out a laugh. “Why’s that?” he asked.

Cisco looked at him as though the answer should be obvious. “You know, like–like a team thing! C’mon, all best friends have a handshake.”

“Is that scientific fact?”

“Damn right it is.” Cisco tilted the remote up, peering at it curiously. “You know, I could probably make this into a really sick weapon if I wanted to.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “I don’t need a remote gun to defend my apartment. I run faster than the speed of sound.”

“You’re really proud of that, aren’t you?” Cisco shook his head and grinned as Barry laughed. “I just said I’d do it if I wanted to. And I don’t really want to. Right now, all I want is my soda.” Cisco leaned out across the gap between the couch and the coffee table, reaching for the can, arm and fingers straining.

Barry raised an eyebrow. “You want me to hand it to you?”

“No, I can get it.” Cisco stretched a bit further and took a dramatic swipe at the can, but it carried his weight off the arm of the couch and into the air. His eyes went wide, and he yelped as he crashed full-force onto Barry, knocking them both to the ground.

Cisco lifted his head, surveying the damage. The soda can still sat unperturbed on the coffee table, damned thing. But he was sprawled bodily over Barry, who was flat on his back. Cisco laughed nervously. “Well,” he started. “This is awkward…”


	5. Prompt Fill: Lost and Found

Iris had seen her share of miracles. The light and happiness coming back into her and her father’s lives after her mother’s death. Barry awakening from a nine-month coma that had even S.T.A.R. Labs personnel discussing the possibility of letting nature take its course. The many and colorful rescues made by The Flash.

But this particular miracle was more beautiful than any other.

Climbing below S.T.A.R. Labs was a desperate bid, a last-ditch effort to find him, but when she turned, he was there, head slumped to his chest and arms bound tightly to the chair in which he sat. “Eddie!” Iris shouted, rushing to him.

Startled, Eddie lifted his eyes, squinting in the near-darkness to find her. “Iris?” he called.

And then she was there, hands cupping his face, pulling him into a soft, warm embrace. “I thought you were dead,” she breathed.

Eddie let out a nervous laugh. “Me, too,” he replied.


	6. Prompt Fill: Wrath

“If you die, I’m gonna kill you,” Iris proclaimed.

Barry blinked at her. “I’m…not sure that would work,” he said carefully.

Eddie, long past the point of feeling frightened by her threats, merely nodded in agreement. “You’d certainly need to do a lot of shoveling,” he offered.

Iris merely glared back at them both. “Look, if I have to, so help me  _God_ , I will cross the infinite abyss between life and death, drag your asses back here, and strangle you with my bare hands! This is, by far, the worst idea I’ve ever heard. One of you idiots runs himself to death at Mach 2, and the other of you idiots gets himself killed by his great-great-great-great-grandson. You need some goddamn _incentive_  to make it out alive.” And with that, she turned sharply on her heel and stalked away, presumably to give Cisco a similar treatment for not discouraging them.

The two men were silent for a moment before Barry spoke up. “You’re smarter than me. You aren’t scared of her.”

“No,” Eddie disagreed. “You’re smarter than me because you are scared of her.”


	7. Prompt Fill: Placing Bets

All his life, Barry had been betting against Iris on  _something_. They bet on small things, things like who could write their name the fastest or who could stand to eat an entire sandwich from their high school cafeteria. They bet on significantly larger things, as well, things like who would break the news to Joe that they’d dented up his car or who would come up with enough money in a month to buy another TV. In fact, Barry was relatively certain that the bet over whose snail would make it around the United States and back first that they started in third grade was still going.

So, whenever they differed on a particular point, it became second nature for Barry to ask the same question: “Wanna bet?”

He was fighting the urge at the moment, though. It was hard to do.

“You won’t have the time,” Iris argued.

“I have all the time in the world,” Barry countered. “I run faster than the speed of sound, you know.”

“Yeah, but you also have a demanding day job, a social life to keep up with that  _doesn’t involve_  watching Netflix until 4 AM, and a–ahem–rather  _colorful_  night life to maintain.”

Barry rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t mean I won’t do it.”

Iris only laughed. “Yes, it does. Barry, you’ve got so much on your plate right now. There’s nothing wrong with taking time for yourself. Admit it; you just don’t have a free enough schedule to take a pretty girl to Paris.”

Barry had tried to contain himself. He really had. Mentally, he was giving himself four gold stars for valiant effort even as he gathered Iris up in his arms and raced off, his speed nearly dividing the Atlantic Ocean. He deposited her safely and squarely on Les Champs-Elysées, just under L’Arc de Triomphe. He grinned down at her. “Wanna bet?” he teased.

He deserved to be smacked, but he was happy to get the kiss, too.


	8. Prompt Fill: Westallen, "I'm Not Going Anywhere"

No one had any illusions that STAR Labs was safe from Zoom. It became clear from the moment that he proved himself willing to hunt anyone anywhere, to the ends of the Multiverse. Even without his speed, Jay was still a target. Even without knowing Barry was The Flash, Patty had always been a target. The others practically put the bullseyes on their own backs, interfering with Zoom’s plans as they had. Retreating to STAR Labs was automatic, instinctual; where else could they go? But they all knew it was only a matter of time until Zoom brought his vendetta there.

There was still a smoking hole in the wall, torn wires dangling out and spitting sparks from their shorn ends, where Cisco’s sonic blast had taken the fight outside. The skid marks on the asphalt were still warm and the stench of burnt rubber assaulted Iris’ nostrils as she ran over them, toward the lightning storm swirling in the street. Most of her life, red and blue reflected on coal-black streets was help, safety, home, a patrol car pulling into the driveway with the lights on so her father could get home to her faster. Now, though, the rapid, flashing colors were the epic battle of good against evil, played out in the road in front of her. And she was powerless to stop it, powerless to do anything but watch.

“ _Do_  something!” Iris shouted, panic seeping into her voice.

Cisco and Caitlin appeared to be having the same thoughts. Cisco held a ready stance, poised for another blast, as Caitlin’s fingertips glowed pale blue with barely-contained ice. “I can’t get a clear shot,” Cisco cried, almost in desperation. “It’s too risky!”

“He’s right, we might hit Barry!” Caitlin yelled.

Iris gestured frantically at the whirlwind of lightning. “We have to help him!” She spun around to catch Jay, who was just catching up. “Jay! You’ve fought Zoom before! How do we stop this, break it up long enough to get a clear shot at him?”

Jay stared past her at the battle. “We can’t,” he said simply. “There’s nothing we can do.”

Iris whirled again to watch the fight, eyes flitting back and forth to keep up with the streak of red as it raced against the blue jetting along beside it, keeping pace. She felt herself sucking in larger and larger breaths, verging on hyperventilation. “Come on, come on, come on,” she whispered.

Then, as suddenly as he had appeared, Zoom dashed away, leaving a wake of dust and debris behind him. Iris automatically stepped forward towards Barry, but Jay’s strong hands at her elbows held her back. “Wait,” he insisted. “Something’s not right.”

Barry was slumped in a heap on the ground and slowly, ever so slowly, pushed himself up onto his feet with shaking hands and muscles trembling from exertion. His entire body trembled, so hard it seemed he was vibrating. Iris squinted to see, and realized that he _was_  vibrating, his face and body intermittently blurring as though fading out of focus. He didn’t take a single step, didn’t even twitch toward them. He merely stood there, frozen, his chest rising and falling convulsively with every shuddering breath he took. He blinked rapidly, erratically, and opened his mouth to speak–but blue lightning arced inside it, choking off the words.

Iris gasped. “Zoom’s lightning,” she breathed.

“It’s destablizing him,” Jay finished grimly.

Barry’s body twitched spasmodically, blue lightning searing along every stiffening muscle. He seemed to flicker in and out of existence, his hands rising to his chest. Briefly, his eyes flashed blue, and he let out a choking cough. Iris thought she saw blood stain his lips.

“Wait!” Cisco called. “Guys, I–I can feel it! Zoom’s lightning, it’s dimensional energy! I can pull it out of him!”

“Do it!” Iris commanded.

She could only assume that Cisco’s eyes were wrenched shut in concentration behind his visor. He extended his hands toward Barry, who was still convulsing and grunting in pain, and the blue lightning jumped toward him. “Come on,” Cisco growled, staunching his position.

The blue lightning tore itself from Barry’s body with a sickening crack, ripping free and arcing toward Cisco, who swiftly collected it between his palms and shot it upward into the sky. Iris looked hopefully back to Barry, only to find that he was now stumbling forward, his form still flickering. “What’s happening?” she demanded. “Why didn’t it work?”

Jay stepped around her and into Barry’s path, stopping him. “Barry, listen–Barry,” he said. “Your molecules are still destabilized. If you can run fast enough to enter the Speed Force, you might be able to reverse it. Okay? Can you do that?”

Barry nodded jerkily, and then he was gone, leaving a hot breeze behind him. It had never been hot before.

There were a few moments of utter silence. Somewhere deep within the STAR Labs building, a sonic boom thundered out. Cisco and Caitlin instinctively backed against each other, scanning the horizon for signs of Zoom. Jay stood with one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his temple. Iris kept her eyes on the hole in the side of STAR Labs, watching, waiting. Barry had to come back. He had to.

As if responding to her thoughts, a red streak of lightning raced out of STAR Labs and slid to a halt before them in the road. Iris turned to greet Barry, but instead was met with a humanoid figure composed entirely of sparking, sizzling red lightning. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she gazed into the white-hot eyes buried in the mess of rushing electricity. Jay shook his head in disbelief. “No,” he said.

“Cisco, you can fix this, right?” Caitlin demanded, eyes wide and ice-blue.

Cisco stood at a loss. “It’s…this is the Speed Force,” he replied. “Zoom’s lightning is dimensional energy. This isn’t. I don’t know what it is. I can’t help him.”

“But I can.”

The words left Iris’ mouth before she realized she had said them. Cautiously, she approached the swirling mass of lightning, her gaze never leaving its eyes. Those eyes had always been warm, long before they were filled with electricity. “Barry?” she called. “I know you’re in there. Come back to me.”

“Iris!” Caitlin cried. “Don’t touch him! You’ll die!”

It washed over her without registering. All that mattered in that moment was that the lightning was beginning to compress, to pull in on itself, and she suddenly grew terrified that he would wink out of existence right before her eyes. She stepped closer. “Barry, I know it’s hard. I know you’re fighting. But you’re not as far away as you think you are. You just have to follow my voice. Follow my voice and come back to me.”

“Iris, get away from him!” Jay shouted.

“I’m not going anywhere!” Iris shouted back, over her shoulder, and then softer, to what had once been Barry, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m here, and so are you. Come back to me.”

She reached out.


	9. Prompt Fill: Minority Report

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a snippet of an upcoming Minority Report AU for The Flash. It'll be based on the film, though, not the TV show. I'd highly recommend watching the movie, if you can.

Ten years without much more than the dim light of the Temple had made Cisco’s eyes weak and sensitive. Still, for some reason, he could not will them to squint against the blinding lights of Central City’s streets and buildings. Even the people bustling along seemed impossibly bright, dotting his vision with snatches of death–a bloodied knife here, a smoking gun there, a bottle of poison on the countertop. Names flew through his thoughts at lightning speed, shattering the sound barrier in his brain, turning his surroundings into white noise.

“I know you’re scared,” Barry said, and though his tone was moderate, it had all the volume of a harsh shout to Cisco’s ears, and he flinched. If Barry noticed, he opted not to acknowledge it. His green eyes remained focused on the traffic ahead of them on the mag-lev. “But I really need you to stay focused, okay? You have information that I’m in desperate need of. We’re headed somewhere now to get it–well, to see it.”

_Extracted_  was the word that hung heavy in the air between them. Cisco wondered if Barry shied away from it out of kindness or out of self-interest. After all, if it was information he wanted, it wouldn’t do to have Cisco so terrified that he could barely communicate it.

Barry pushed a hand through his thick, dark hair. It was hair almost like Dante’s had been, almost like Cisco’s had been before they shaved it all off and put him in the milk bath at the Temple. He wondered if Barry was meticulous about his hair, if he spent inordinate amounts of time before a mirror perfecting the part and if he only used certain products on it, if he forewent hats and earmuffs in the winter to salvage all that beautiful brown hair. He hadn’t seemed very interested in his hair in the vision; it had been (would be) disheveled, sticking up in every direction, splattered with the barest flecks of blood from a bullet ripping through a chest right in front of him, that satisfied smirk and cold-hearted farewell on his lips–

“You can trust me,” Barry added, almost as an afterthought. “Nothing bad’s going to happen.”

Cisco curled tighter in the passenger seat. He wanted to believe Barry. He wanted it so badly. Barry seemed to be a nice person, seemed kinder than McGee and Wells had been, kind in a way that not even Caitlin could be. But Cisco knew–Barry only wanted information out of him, like everyone else. All Barry wanted was what Cisco could provide to him about the future, about Barry’s future. Cisco couldn’t simply erase or forget his vision, the vision where Barry killed (would kill) a man he’d never met in cold blood.

Cisco wondered if Barry might kill him, too, once he knew there was no minority report.


End file.
